


The Other Boyfriend

by Arctic_comet



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Missing Scene, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_comet/pseuds/Arctic_comet
Summary: Missing scene from S2: Jonathan helps Nancy home from Tina's.





	The Other Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, but I'm totally going with the assumption that there was never a talk between Jonathan and Steve (because it didn't look like it) and Steve only knew Jonathan took her home because either someone told him or because he saw Jonathan was there and figured he wouldn't leave Nancy drunk and helpless.

Jonathan hadn’t exactly missed out on the argument between Steve and Nancy in the kitchen, which had ended with her storming off to probably clean her shirt. Now he was suddenly almost face-to-face to Steve, who seemed to be on his way out alone... _And crying_?

He hated himself for that tiny glimmer of hope that they’d just broken up. Either way, he didn’t know what to say to Steve, and chances were Nancy was too drunk to get home by herself, so he began pushing himself toward the bathroom, followed by Sam.

"You following that girl?" she asked. Jonathan gritted his teeth. There was no way he could explain to this girl what he was doing and why.

"Uh, yeah. She's a friend," he finally mumbled.

Knocking on the door lightly, he called out “Nancy? Can I come in?”

“Sure,” she replied.

He found her standing at the sink, furiously scrubbing at her formerly pristine white blouse.

“I don’t think that’s going to come off,” he said stupidly, but it only made her laugh.

“I know. I’m pathetic, and this blouse doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is that I’m a murderer, Jonathan-“

“Nancy-“ he interrupted, not wanting Sam or anyone else outside to hear. He had to get her out of the house quickly.

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re too fucking nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

She looked like she was about to break down, so he did the only thing he could think of: he pulled her into his arms, and desperately tried not to feel anything when her other hand dug into his sweater and the other one held onto his neck, gently grazing the shorter hair there.She was only doing this because she was drunk, but yet he let his head rest on top of hers for a while. He suspected she wouldn't remember much of this in the morning anyway.

“I’ll take you home,” he promised.

She nodded against his neck. “Okie dokie.”

Keeping a steadying arm around her, he steered her through the crowd.

“What are you staring at?” she spat, sagging against his side a little more, and he realized she was talking to Sam.

“Are you sure she's just a friend?” asked Sam, raising her brows at him curiously. He brushed her off because it was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

"We've got to go," he merely said, nodding at her.

"She's totally after you," slurred Nancy when he pushed the door open while trying to keep her upright at the same time. She wasn't really doing much to help him out, but he didn't want to carry her unless he absolutely had to. The stories that'd spawn at school...

"Who?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"That goth girl... Or whatever she's supposed to be," she replied, her tone almost mocking, although it was hard to say because he could barely make out her words anymore.

A part of him relished the thought that Nancy might be jealous of another girl talking to him, that she might still feel something for him, after all this time, but he shook it off. He needed to get her to her own bed safely, and then he had to get Will and have him home before their mom freaked out.

Maneuvering her into his car and attaching her seat belt didn't turn out to be easy, mostly she _wouldn't_ stop touching him. 

"You're all nice and warm," she murmured sleepily. 

"And you're very drunk," he sighed gently. For some reason, that made her giggle.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he got into the driver's seat and started the car.

"Your house. Will should be there, too."

"Gonna puke," she mumbled, and he immediately stopped the car, jumping out to open her door. 

Nancy looked a bit green when he crouched down and let her put an arm around his shoulder to move her legs. She dryheaved a few times, and then finally retched.

"So sorry," she said weakly. She started to wipe her mouth on her sleeve, but he was quicker to dig out a tissue and dab at her mouth. 

"Don't worry about it." 

She bit into her lower lip and he thinks that under different circumstances he might muster up enough courage to kiss her when she looked at him like that, her eyes so bright blue, full of something he didn't want to guess at. Now was hardly the time, though. He wasn't sure what she told Steve, but it didn't even matter. People said a lot of things they didn't mean when they were drunk. Unfortunately some also said a lot of things they _did_ mean, like his dad for instance. The alcohol just made them more honest. Nevertheless, Nancy wasn't his dad, and she was going to feel very sick and sorry in the morning. He wasn't going to add to her regrets.

"Still feeling sick?" he asked, pushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. 

"Better now. You'd better keep driving."

They managed to get to Maple Street without further incidents, and Nancy could still almost stand on her own two feet when he pulled her out of the car. Then, as they were crossing the front yard, her legs turned into jelly and she took him down with her. 

"Sorry," she managed breathlessly.

He regained his balance and took a firmer grip of her waist to haul her into a standing position. She didn't offer him much help the rest of the way to the house, but they reached the door, which was fortunately unlocked. Jonathan figured there was no way she'd want her parents to see her like this, so he took her upstairs as quickly and quietly as he could. Nancy was almost asleep by then, her head lolling against his shoulder. 

Now came the hard part. Undressing her completely was totally out of the question, but he felt like an ass for leaving the sticky, wet blouse on her. If only she could undress herself, and he could turn around and maybe hand her a pair of pajamas. Eventually he settled on pulling her boots off after laying her down on the mattress. Her skirt had risen dangerously high and he studiously kept his eyes away from the area, pulling the covers over her as soon as he could. 

"Jonathan?" she called out weakly, her eyes halfway open. That stopped him in his tracks, and their eyes met as his heart pounded, waiting. Then her eyes drooped and with that, she was gone. _What had she been about to say?_ Jesus, he was pathetic. A complete sucker when it came to Nancy Wheeler.

Casting one last look at her sleeping form, Jonathan turned the lights off and closed the door behind him, taking a moment to lean against it and sigh. _Time to find Will._


End file.
